


6. Ryan faces up to Sam

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [6]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-01 17:19:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	6. Ryan faces up to Sam

_**Ryan Kwanten faces up to Sam Worthington**_  
[current; occurs a few days after [things go wrong with Sam](http://www.journalfen.net/users/sam_worthington/2383.html)]

Ryan had panicked. He left Sam's with the sense that he was narrowly escaping something. But then he'd spent the next few days realizing he hadn't gotten out of a damn thing. Every word he'd said, every stupid thing he'd done -- he's spent the time since thinking it all over and parsing it to death. If Sam thought he was crazy before? Hell, it's nothing to how he feels now. Could he have fucked things up worse if he'd yelled and thrown shit?  
  
And now what? He can't stop thinking about Sam; turns out it's way too late to walk away clean after all, and probably was since the first time Sam tasted his blood. Sam's too remarkable to simply give up on without a fight, even if that fight is to Ryan's own insecurities. Ryan's determined to do whatever it takes.  


_I just hope I'll get the chance_ , he thinks with a sigh, sitting in the Citadel hallway next to Sam's door. It's been three hours of waiting so far, and for all he knows Sam's left town. But Ryan doesn't want to call and make his apologies over the phone. He's scared of the reception he might get.

"Yeah, well, I'll buy you a pint to make up for it," Sam says, laughing into his phone as he comes off the lift, too engrossed in his conversation for a moment to notice Ryan but when he does his face falls flat. Christ. "Look, I gotta go. I'll ring you later and we can firm up plans. Yeah. I promise. 'kay. Take care." He shoves his phone into his backpocket and nods at Ryan, keeping a safe distance between them. "Hey."

"Hey." Ryan gets to his feet and scratches the back of his neck, feeling awkward. Sam looks fantastic. Except for the telling bit about how he looks like he wishes Ryan were anywhere else but here. "I, um. I've got some things I need to say, and apologize for. Can I come in?"

Sam takes a minute to consider the request, a part of him wanting simply to say no, send Ryan the hell home. But another part wants to hear what he has to say and it's that part that wins out. He exhales softly and nods. "Yeah," he says, swiping his keycard through the lock and turning on the lights inside. He puts down his packages, shrugs off his jacket, hanging it over the back of the nearby chair, and turns to face Ryan.

Relieved Sam didn't tell him to just fuck off, Ryan follows him inside, careful not to get into Sam's personal space. "I'm sorry," he says after a moment, "for freaking out like that the other night, and then for bailing on you. I put a lot of stuff on you that really had nothing to do with you... I mean it did, but it was my shit and you didn't deserve it," Ryan says haltingly, trying to explain. "I really panicked. I'm sorry about that."

"Okay." Sam nods. "Thanks for clearing that up," he says, not sure what else to say.

 _Nice one_. Ryan shoves his hands in his jeans pockets, more frustrated with himself than he could even express right now. Tries to focus. "Could... can I have another chance?"

Fuck. Sam feels his cheeks heat, his stomach knot. "Why?"

"Because we're really good together." Mouth dry, Ryan stares at him, trying to search Sam's eyes for any sign of hope at all. "I made a mistake. Let me make it up to you."

"I don't know. I'm going home in a few days. Gonna be gone for almost a month," Sam says, folding his arms across his chest and then dropping them back to his sides, not wanting to appear defensive, even if he is. "And you still haven't told me what this was about. Not really. Not in any detail."

Ryan blows a breath out. The knowledge that Sam is leaving just hurts, like maybe he really fucked this up beyond repair. "Didn't know if you wanted..." he drags a hand through his hair. "That was really intense for me, the other night," he begins. "It has been every time, and I just... I felt something I haven't experienced in... nearly five years. I wasn't expecting it. I wasn't prepared for it, you know?" Ryan looks at Sam, willing him to understand. Wondering if there's any emotional common ground there at all. "I wasn't sure I even _wanted_ to feel it again, and it just scared the hell out of me."

Sam nods. "I don't trust people easily," he says quietly, after a moment. "I come across as brash and laid-back and like I don't give a shit what people think, and I don't, but I can count the people I trust in my life on both hands and still have fingers left over and it takes a lot for me to _really_ relax and feel comfortable with someone." He pauses, rubbing his knuckles across his mouth. "And I was feeling that way with you, that click, you know, where you feel like you've known someone for a long time, and you can tell them anything. Which I did," he says pointedly, eyebrow raised, before continuing. "And then you ran out on me."

Ryan winces, feeling gut-punched. "I'm sorry," he whispers. _Christ_. Sam deserves better than this. Full disclosure. "I'm falling in love with you," Ryan says softly, wishing it didn't feel like such a pathetic offering. "I just didn't know what to do with it."

Sam's eyes widen at the confession, the knot in his stomach tightening. Whatever else he was expecting, whatever fucked up history, that declaration was the very last thing on his list. _Three times!_ Well, four, including this one. "I don't know either," he says finally. "I don't know what love means to you, what you expect from someone you're involved with... but I do like you. A lot. And I wouldn't have suggested what I did the other night if there wasn't something more there. I just don't know what it is yet."

A quick nod. "I don't... I'm not trying to put pressure on you," Ryan says, hands back in his pockets. "That's not why I told you. Sorry if I... sorry." Ryan feels like he's just digging himself in deeper with every word. "Look, can we start over?"

"If you promise not to run out on me again," Sam says bluntly.

Ryan's heart races with excitement. Can he do that? Actually tell Sam why he's freaking out, should it happen again, instead of just withdrawing altogether? He nods and licks his lips. "I promise."

"Okay." Sam nods, smiling for the first time since he caught sight of Ryan waiting in the hall. He shrugs and opens his arms, motioning for Ryan to come give him a hug.

It takes a second to catch up, but even so Ryan doesn't have to be told twice. He crosses the room with long strides and wraps his arms tight around Sam, catching him before he knocks him back a step, burying his face in Sam's neck.

It feels good, right, even in clothes their bodies fitting perfectly together. Sam gives a soft laugh, the tension draining from his body as he wraps his arms around Ryan as well, hugging him close. "I'd pretty much given up on you," he confesses.

The words are a soothing balm, telling Ryan so much, so simply. "I'll try not to make you wait again," he promises, nuzzling Sam's jaw.

Sam turns his head, capturing Ryan's mouth, tongue already licking between his lips. Already hardening for him.

A moan, soft sound of need, and Ryan grasps Sam's nape. He hungrily returns the kiss, dizzy with relief and all the adrenaline of the argument changing into a sudden roaring lust.

Deepening the kiss, Sam grinds against Ryan, groaning into his mouth, his cock throbbing through denim.

It's not enough. In a moment like this, it feels like it could never be enough. Ryan tugs at Sam's clothes, slipping his hands underneath his shirt, desperate to feel bare skin against his fingertips. "Need you," he whispers, one hand dropping down to tug at Sam's belt, "need you inside me."

Sam nods. "Bed." He wants a repeat of the other night, one where Ryan doesn't run away after. His hands already working Ryan's t-shirt up over his head, his jeans open, backing them awkwardly towards the bed, their mouths locked together, breaking only for breath.

Somehow Ryan gets his jeans and trainers off without tripping over them, though it's a near thing. He winds up naked before Sam does, but that doesn't last for long, determined as he is. He falls back onto the bed with a wide smile, already reaching out.

Draping himself between Ryan's legs, Sam kisses him, nipping at his bottom lip, sucking at it. He reaches over into the bedside table, lube and condom plucked from the drawer and dropped beside them. Grinds against him again, their cocks bare this time, precome slicking their movements.

Ryan moans and grabs Sam's ass, pulling him in tighter. The slide of skin on skin is so damn seductive, it's hard to make himself let go even when he knows he should. How many boundaries has he crossed today already? Being with Sam just makes him want to break every rule he has. He licks hungrily at Sam's neck, scrabbling for the lube.

"You feel so good," Sam murmurs, biting harder at Ryan's mouth. He pushes up on his hands, eyes flickering between Ryan's face and their cocks sliding together, length against length, almost perfectly matched.

"Better than you know," Ryan replies, laughing a little. Sam might just drive him mad. Lifting his fingers to Sam's lips he traces their lush shape, then drops his hand to grip their cocks, slowly stroking them together.

"Oh, fuck," Sam groans, stilling and just reveling in the pleasure of Ryan's hand around them both.

Now that's amazing, watching lust move across Sam's face like that. Gorgeous. It makes Ryan's chest hurt, in a damn good way this time. He shivers once, keeping his strokes steady but speeding them up just a touch. Feeling the way he and Sam fit together, the drag of slick skin.

"You keeping doing that and I'm gonna come like this," Sam warns, pleasure washing over him in waves, each one cresting higher and higher.

"If you're trying to talk me out of it, you suck at it," Ryan gasps. He's using both hands now, arching beneath Sam, working their pricks together. Watching Sam's face.

Sam laughs, breath catching on another groan. "Thought you wanted me - _Christ_ \- inside you," he pants, hips starting to move again, the pleasure too much to bear.

Sparks skitter up Ryan's spine. Sam has a good point. But... "I'll catch you next time," Ryan says with a laugh. He captures a stray drop of precome from Sam's cock and raises his thumb to his mouth, moaning softly at the taste.

"Gonna hold you to that," Sam whispers, hips suddenly hitching, stuttering before he thrusts, fucking his cock against Ryan's and through his grasp, once twice and again, hot thick ropes of white spurting with each thrust.

Every drop sears his skin, and Ryan has to yank himself back from coming instantly. "Sir." he gasps, thrusting swiftly against Sam, his entire body tight. His hand is so slick now that it's tough to hold on. "Sir, please!"

Sam nods. "Come for me, boy," he orders, eyes locked on Ryan's face.

Ryan fists his cock tight once, digging in at the head, and jerks like he's been shocked. Before he can even catch his breath, with a moan he kisses Sam, burying his hand in Sam's hair and dragging him down.

Sam groans into Ryan's mouth, feeling him spill between them, their come mingling, slicking their cocks and both their skins. Fuck.

A second, and then Ryan's laughing into the kiss, relief and afterglow bubbling up. God, he can't help it. He pushes Sam to his back, rolling to straddle him with a big grin. "You're a mess," he tells him, like he had nothing to do with it, tracing his finger over Sam's belly. Still feeling like he could fucking fly.

"I think that might be your fault," Sam says, grinning back, his hands on Ryan's hips, holding him close.

Now Ryan just looks happily smug. "Yeah," he says, and shrugs. Leaning down, he begins to lick Sam's cock clean.

That gets another groan, Sam burying one hand in Ryan's hair and watching him with pleasure, his softening cock jerking lightly under his tongue.

Ryan does a thorough job, gentling his actions as Sam's prick grows more sensitive. Lying down, he pulls the blankets up over them - they need a shower anyway - and wraps an arm around Sam. Kisses him, letting their flavors mingle on his tongue.

"I wish you could come with me," Sam murmurs, sighing heavily. Having to go home and to Europe had seemed like a convenient escape until Ryan showed up on his doorstep, but now... a whole fucking month?

"Really?" Ryan caresses Sam's cheek, surprised and excited by his words. "I mean, say it if you want to, obviously, but... I don't have to stay here, Sam."

"You don't? What about - don't you need a piano or something for work?" Sam asks. "Or what, you can just take off?" He realizes suddenly he hasn't the faintest how Ryan's career works.

"I have a keyboard I travel with," Ryan answers, dropping his gaze to Sam's mouth. It's easier than meeting his eyes during a charged conversation like this. "And you'd be surprised how many hotels have pianos tucked away." He huffs a small laugh. "But you can tell me to fuck off, Sam. I'll still be here when you get back."

"I don't want to tell you to fuck off." Sam grins. "I want you to come with me." He leans and kisses Ryan. "That's something you'll learn about me. I don't say things I don't mean."

Ryan blinks, half-heartedly returning the kiss. Still absorbing Sam's words. Mostly too busy smiling. "Better tell me when your flight is, then," he murmurs. "I'll go home and pack."

"Thursday, 2 pm, and you can pack tomorrow. Tonight you're staying here," Sam says, kissing Ryan again and again. He grins. "You know, you might be the one who regrets this. I'm not the easiest person to travel with."

"Warn me now." Ryan laughs, and licks into Sam's mouth. "Do you get cranky on long flights? Should I bring candy to soothe you? Hell, should I bring lube in my carry-on?" he teases.

"D, all of the above," Sam laughs. "And I prefer chocolate over candy."

"I'll remember," Ryan promises, drawing his fingertips lightly up Sam's spine. A wicked light shines in his eye. "You gonna let me get you off in first class?" Hell, he doesn't know why he's bothering to ask; he's counting on it.

"Yeah, although we'll have to be creative," Sam says, pressing even closer. "I don't think we'll both fit in the toilet."

"You're nothing if not creative." Ryan captures Sam's bottom lip, sucking on it. "Hey," he whispers after a second, drawing back far enough to meet Sam's eyes. "I really am sorry for freaking out on you. I know I said it, but... just want you to know I hate thinking I hurt you."

"Thanks," Sam murmurs. "Just - like I said, don't do it again." But he realizes that's asking a lot. "I mean, the walking out part. I can deal with the freaking out but you gotta keep your ass in the room."

Ryan nods, dropping his gaze. The panic... he's a little worried himself it might happen again, and he's not used to it. "Okay. You've really never done this before? Let someone get serious about you, I mean? Because you're good at it." Calm. Ryan respects that.

Sam gives a small laugh. "I'm glad you think so, cause I feel like I'm flying by the seat of my pants." He smiles at Ryan. "Usually, I make myself pretty damn scarce when people start wanting more. It's like owning a home, or settling down. More trouble and work than I've wanted to deal with. But I also haven't felt that click with anyone else, so I'm willing to see how this goes."

''Can't promise I'll go easy on you,'' Ryan murmurs, smiling faintly. ''I'm a demanding son of a bitch.''

"Yeah." Sam grins. He knows. "But you might be worth it."

Ryan laughs and kisses Sam again. "I'll make damn sure of it."  



End file.
